Chapter 21 #2
“She wishes…” Cash sidled over to my side and bumped me in the shoulder, a glimmer of his usual self peaking through.
I rolled my eyes and laughed, nudging him back. “If I recall correctly, I’m the one who turned you down, remember, sweetheart?”
His grin pulled wider and he nodded. He’d shot his shot the first time Ryder introduced us all, but even then, I’d been interested in Maverick. Cash and I were too similar. Yeah, he was attractive, but a little too himbo-ish for me. I liked my men grumpy, or broody, or both.
Maverick couldn’t fit the bill any more perfectly.
Cash wrapped an arm around my shoulder for a moment before letting it fall. “Nah, she’s Maverick’s.”
A little trickle of…of something went through me at that. I wasn’t sure what it was, and honestly, I wasn’t quite ready to know what it meant, but it did something to me.
Goodie’s eyes widened as he glanced between me and Maverick. “Really?” A soft smile played on his lips. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, miss.”
I gave him a soft smile before movement in the arena drew my gaze. Maverick made his way slowly into the center of the round pen as the horse sprinted off angrily around in circles, tossing her head and snorting up a storm.
“I told Violet I quit smokin’,” Mister Mooney finally answered his brother, his gaze similarly glued to the arena as well. “She said I had to either quit smokin’ or quit drinkin’. I figure I can smoke in secret a hell of a lot easier than I can drink in secret.”
“And if Violet finds out?” Goodie asked, shifting his focus to Maverick as well. Cash’s gaze never truly left his cousin. He’d been watching like I hawk since the moment he’d gone into the pen.
“Then I’ll work that red filly next time and let the bitch run me over,” Bad quipped, fidgeting with his hands. I glanced over as he sprinkled some tobacco into a piece of paper.
“How do you get the shit to roll your own cigarettes?” Goodie asked. “Aren’t you afraid she’ll see the charges on the card?”
Bad glanced over his shoulder at Cash beside me, a sly grin on his face. “Turns out my son ain’t unreliable in every way.” He winked. “Cash buys me the stuff and doesn’t tell his mama. And I don’t tell her I caught him in the hay barn with that Karkula girl again last week. Win, win.”
In the round pen, Maverick finally made a move towards the horse. She’d been running herself ragged for a while now, sweat all but dripping off her. Maverick slowly worked his way out from the center towards the far fence. The filly saw him and turned to charge.
My heart squeezed even as my mind told me to calm down. Everyone always talked about Maverick being an excellent horseman. And from the way he moved, the way he watched the horse, I knew I didn’t need to worry.
But my heart still fluttered as Goodie shouted out. “Maverick, look out!”
Maverick paid him no mind. He just stood his ground. A silent sentinel.
“You know why a horse will never run itself into a tree or off a cliff?” Mister Mooney asked no one in particular, lighting a cigarette.
Goodie was the only one to regard him. “What?”
“A horse won’t run itself into a tree or off a cliff because instinctively the horse knows that tree or that cliff won’t move. And if it keeps goin’, it ain’t gonna end well for the horse.”
I glanced between Mister Mooney and Maverick, a soft smile coming to my lips as Bad pointed at the dark-haired cowboy. “Horse knows, instinctively, that Maverick ain’t gonna move either.”
The filly charged within a few feet of Maverick and stopped. Just stopped. Maverick didn’t take a step back or to the side. He made no indication of any kind that his life was in danger. He just stood his ground, staring at the horse.
“Every time I look that bitch in the eye she tries to bite my face off.” Goodie shook his head on my right.
“You challenge her,” Mister Mooney answered. “You raise a question of who’s in charge. Maverick don’t do that.”
“So, they just know he’s in charge?” I found myself asking.
Mister Mooney regarded me for a long moment. “With Maverick it ain’t about who’s in charge. The horses trust him. Like nothin’ or no one I ever seen before.”
“Why?” Goodie wondered aloud, mirroring my own thoughts. I’d never understood people who had that deep of a connection with an animal. Hell. He’d only been around Brandy a couple times and I already had to worry she’d replace me with him.
Mister Mooney just shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never understood. But I do know I ain’t ever seen anyone calm a horse as quickly and efficiently as that boy.”
I shifted my focus back to Maverick as he approached the horse on her right side and slowly reached out his hand to run it along her back.
It wasn’t fear or trepidation slowing Maverick’s hand.
It was that smooth, sure confidence. The horse flinched as his hand came into contact with her flesh.
Maverick didn’t speak as he methodically ran his hand up and down the horse’s side, working his way leisurely up to her head.
She pinned her ears back, threatening to bite, but he ignored her.
He met her gaze, never faltering. It was like he was communicating with her through some unspoken language.
Made sense. Him and I managed to understand each other pretty well without words.
The filly relaxed a bit as he came to stand beside her face. A dangerous place for anyone else to be. Maverick stood like he belonged there.
I’d ridden my whole life; I’d watched men and women ride and train and compete. But I don’t think I’d ever seen anything like this. It was like in those movies, the cheesy horse girl ones where the untamable stallion all but bent the knee for some angsty teen.
Except this wasn’t a movie, and Maverick wasn’t an angsty teen. Well, I guess you could argue he might be a bit angsty, but that was beside the point.
I glanced over my shoulder at Cash. “You’re right. He is like a fairytale princess.”
Cash’s lips pulled up into a grin, his gaze never leaving Maverick. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? The connection he has with them.”
I nodded. “It doesn’t seem real.”
“It’s real alright,” Mister Mooney added.
We all watched as Maverick took a step back and held out his left arm to gesture across the pen.
The filly arched her neck, and for a heart pounding moment I thought she might rear, but with a snort, she started forward in a brisk trot.
Maverick clicked his tongue at the horse, the only sound he’d made so far.
As if understanding his request, the mare sped up into a gallop, though not quite into the balls-to-the-wall run she’d been at when he’d first gone in.
“So does he speak horse or does the filly speak English?” Goodie asked.
Mister Mooney blew out a puff of smoke. The sweet scent of tobacco enveloping me.
I breathed it in deeply, savoring the familiarity of the smell.
“Neither the one, nor the other. They don’t speak the same language at all.
They just understand one another.” He nodded toward the arena again. “See, watch.”
Maverick lowered his hands then, and stilled in the center of the pen.
Even went so far as to drop his head down toward his chest. He didn’t say a word, but it was like the air shifted.
I sensed it. Bad and Cash and Goodie sensed it as well.
Especially the horse, as she stopped in the arena and looked to him—ears forward, harsh lines of her face softening a bit.
Maverick took a step to his left, moving out past her head.
Taking a step back, she turned around, starting in the other direction at a slow jog.
Maverick clicked his tongue once more, urging her faster. The filly obliged.
Goodie sighed. “I’ll be damned.”
“Likely.” Mister Mooney blew out another puff of smoke and chuckled. “Very likely.”
I watched, in awe, as Maverick worked the filly for a few more minutes, stopping her and turning her around every so often. She was steaming and dripping sweat, but relaxed into the work instead of trying to find a way to get loose and go on a killing spree.
Maverick stilled once more. The horse stopped and walked towards him, meeting him in the middle of the pen. He petted her face for a long moment before turning and walking back towards us.
I’d always thought he was attractive, talented. But fuck…there was something so fucking sexy about what he’d just done. That calm, quiet confidence. It made me think of last night. Of the way everything he’d done had been with purpose and that same, slow surety. A shiver went through me.
“If I turned my back on that pig, she’d put hoofprints on it,” Goodie marveled as he climbed back over the fence toward his charge.
Maverick shook his head, but Mister Mooney’s voice drew our attention. “She ain’t a pig, you're just a dumbass.”
“Well,” Goodie sighed. “You know what they say. If it looks like a pig and acts like a pig, it’s probably a red mare.”
“And what does that make you?” I asked, immediately cupping my hand over my mouth. Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Damn my big, fat mouth.
Cash and Mister Mooney burst out laughing. A smile even graced Goodie’s face. Maverick just cast a meaningful glance back at the horse, now sniffing around the pen. After a moment he nodded toward Goodie.
We all frowned. I didn’t know what he was asking. Looking to Cash, I wondered if he understood, but Cash glanced at me and shrugged.
Mister Mooney was the one to speak. “No, you ain’t takin’ on another baby, Maverick. You’ve got Blue Zeus, and Goodie has that red filly. You don’t have time to work ‘em all and I don’t want Blue Zeus endin’ up like this one.”
“Are you suggesting I can’t break a baby?” Goodie demanded from beside Maverick.
“Who got the filly to calm down?” Mister Mooney shot back.
Maverick shook his head once, before lowering his eyes to the ground.